


Spin The Sky

by aizia



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizia/pseuds/aizia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, pushing images of a war-torn tribe out of her mind. For years, she had wondered when the three hundred year era of peace would end, but she had hoped it wouldn't be in her lifetime.</p>
<p>An AU in which Korra became the Avatar thirty to forty reincarnations before she did canonically; a time when the Water Tribe was still unified, the Earth Kingdom was only a series of settlements, and the concept of the Avatar despised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spin The Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to ariadnerue for beta-ing and metalwarrior22 for pointing out all my embarrassing logical issues.

 

Korra’s mother kissed her forehead and her father pulled her into a hug.

 

“Be careful,” Senna said once they pulled apart, her brows synched in a worried line.

 

“I will.” Korra shouldered her small pack. “It’s only for a few days. I’ve gone on longer hunting trips with dad.”

 

“She has. A true warrior, I’d say.” Tonraq nudged Korra’s arm, and she grinned.

 

Korra said one last goodbye, more hugs were exchanged, and she only made it halfway out of their tent before Senna called “Don’t forget to sharpen your weapons!”

 

“I won’t!” Korra yelled back, breathing in the sharp, crisp air of the North’s spring.

 

**

 

The bladesmith sat cross-legged on the circular ice bench in the center of their village, surrounded by hundreds of seal skin tents and small ice buildings. Most people were inside, an unspoken precaution.

 

The bladesmith stood up when she saw Korra, ready to assist. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, jet black hair peeking out of a thick hood. Korra pulled out her machete and jaw blade, handing her both.

 

“Where are you heading off to?” the bladesmith asked, picking out a rasp from the large bag of supplies at her feet.

 

“The mountains,” Korra said.

 

The bladesmith looked surprised. “You’re eighteen,” she said, half statement, half question. Korra nodded. “Time flies.”

 

Korra thought it was strange to hear the phrase from a girl barely older than herself. She had known the bladesmith for years, having short conversations whenever she’d make the trip up North every few months. Korra had forgotten her name months ago, but now she was too embarrassed to ask.

 

“I doubt I’ll be here when you get back. Five days, right?” the bladesmith asked, grating the rasp across the edge of Korra’s jaw blade.

 

“No more, no less,” Korra said.

 

She seemed to ponder this. “I almost have enough to go back for a few months and start selling. Weapons, I mean. You pay very well, here. I never need to stay very long.”

 

“Yeah, well.” Korra laughed. “Not many bladesmiths come up here. I’m sure the chief is happy to trade some weapons for your service.”

 

The bladesmith put down the rasp and gently tapped the blade of the machete with the pad of a finger, the force enough to draw blood. She handed Korra the weapons after that, satisfied.

 

“Good luck,” she said, a genuine smile on near-blue lips.

 

“Thanks.” Korra slipped protectors back onto the blades and stuffed them in her bag. “See you around, then.”

 

The bladesmith waved and sat back down on the ice bench.

 

Korra took a deep breath and headed west to the mountains.

 

**

 

The first couple of days were simple enough.

 

Korra found a spot far enough from the main peaks to set up base, where she wouldn’t have to worry about avalanches. She melted clean ice to drink and found a hole in the ice so full of fish she was able to catch them with simple waterbending. Both nights she fell asleep full and contented.

 

On the third morning she was sure she heard noises.

 

Human noises; eerily reminiscent of yelling and shouting. There was no question that it was coming from her tribe, the emptiness of the North Pole leaving no other options.

 

It was only her pride that kept her from running back; proving herself as a worthy survivor would be impossible if she didn’t stay for exactly five nights. She resorted to hoping that it was nothing disastrous.

 

The noises continued on the fourth day, though there was an additional sound within the mix that Korra couldn’t quite place. It was less distinct than a voice, and more of a soft rustle here and there.

 

The new sounds steadily increased in volume as the morning went on, setting Korra on edge. She raised her jaw blade once the rustling turned into thumping, positive she could hear panting.

 

“Who’s there?” Korra called out, not afraid of a fight.

 

No response, save for more panting.

 

Eventually a figure appeared on the horizon, climbing over the curve of a mountain that had once blocked them from view. Even from the distance, Korra could tell by their relaxed hands and shoulders that they weren’t a threat, but she kept her guard up anyway.

 

The figure stopped a few dozen steps in front of Korra and bent over with their hands on their knees, attempting to catch their breath. The figure’s willowy stature and usual borrowed blue coat gave her away. Korra closed most of their distance, lowering her jaw blade.

 

“What are you doing here?” Korra asked the bladesmith, her tone more confused than hostile.

 

“You can’t go back,” was all the bladesmith said before she started panting again.

 

“What?” Korra said, frustrated by her vague response. A wave of panic settled over her. “Why?”

 

“Fighting amongst your tribe,” the bladesmith said, her breathing growing more regular. “Could be a full-on war. Everyone but those fighting were forced to evacuate. Your parents left safely. The chief wouldn’t let them search for you, but since I’m not part of the tribe, I was allowed to go. It’s too dangerous to go back.”

 

Korra’s first instinct was to get in the middle of the action. She fought the feeling. “Where are my parents now?”

 

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m not even sure if _they_ know where they’ll be going.”

 

Korra ran past her, feeling overwhelmed and oddly numbed at the same time.

 

“Where are you going?” the bladesmith called.

 

“What do you think?” Korra yelled back. “To find them.”

 

“I’ll help you.”

 

“Don’t you have a town to go back to?” Korra asked, though it didn’t really sound like a question. She started jogging, and heard the bladesmith’s footsteps behind her.

 

“Not really. I don’t have family down there. Or anywhere, actually. I’ll be kicked out of my house soon, anyway. I’m as good as broke.”

 

“I thought you sold our weapons for money.”

 

The bladesmith sighed. “It’s not as simple as it seems. There’s a stigma these days. Some people don’t want to buy Water Tribe weapons because the next Avatar –the one alive now– is supposed to be from Water Tribe. The longer this Avatar hides the less business I get.”

 

Korra swallowed. “Oh.”

 

She didn’t know what to say. She felt partially responsible, which was stupid, because it wasn’t really her fault at all.

 

“Please let me come with you,” the bladesmith said. There was something to her voice, a raw quality, like she was begging to not be left alone.

 

“Alright,” Korra said, relenting. She told herself it wouldn’t be a long trip, anyway.

 

**

 

All Korra could see was white in every direction, and she found it difficult to keep track of time. The only sounds were the crunching of their boots against snow and the occasional howling of wind.

 

“Are we heading south?” the bladesmith asked.

 

“We’ll scour this side of the North, and then make our way into the Earth Kingdom.”

 

A pause.

 

“You never asked about the details,” the bladesmith said.

 

“It wasn’t hard to guess.”

 

The bladesmith hummed. “I stayed a few more days before going back to the Earth Kingdom. While you were gone, the chief made a law against free marriage. It was controversial. Fights broke out.”

 

Korra concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, pushing images of a war-torn tribe out of her mind. For years, she had wondered when their three hundred year era of peace would end, but she had hoped it wouldn’t be in her lifetime.

 

Tension had been rising for years, though, and a part of her had always known things would blow over sooner rather than later. She would never forget the riots year ago; the shouting, the warnings, the feeling of being consumed by masses of people every time she left her home.

 

“I have a question,” Korra said. She knew it was laughably abrupt, but not knowing was just going to get more and more embarrassing. “What’s your name?”

 

The bladesmith paused to look at her, gaze apologetic. “It’s Asami. I’m so sorry, I thought you knew. I would have introduced myself – ”

 

“No, it’s my fault. I had just forgotten.”

 

The howling of the wind lulled them into a near-silence after that. Every so often Asami would attempt to make conversation, though Korra kept her answers brief. The discourse never lasted long, and so eventually Asami stopped.

 

Korra really wasn’t in the mood for talking.

 

They traveled along the coast, where Korra could catch food if they needed it. She walked until the burning of her legs was stronger than her will to keep going. At that point, she was surprised Asami hadn’t asked her to stop; she was all height with not a lot of muscle, like she never quite got enough to eat. It was a contrast to Korra’s shorter, more robust frame, and if Korra’s mother was there she knew she’d insist on fattening the girl up. She felt a pang at the thought.

 

“We should stop for the night,” Korra said. “It’s getting dark.”

 

Asami nodded weakly and Korra wondered how the cold was treating her. There was something about being born in the North Pole that desensitized one to chill, and she had to remind herself continually that outsiders didn’t have that protection.

 

“We need to find a snowdrift,” Korra decided, planning to carve a tunnel in the middle of one for insulation.

 

It took them a few minutes of wandering to locate a drift as firm as Korra needed it to be. She shucked snow out from its center with her machete, leaving a thick roof. Korra was finished in less time than it took to find the drift; she turned around afterward to find Asami staring at her in disbelief.

 

“Fast, right?” Korra said. It didn’t come out as confident as she hoped it would, her voice weak with exhaustion.

 

Asami didn’t seem to be faring much better, though; she was too pale everywhere except for her cheeks, which were bright red from the cold, and her lips were turning purple again.

 

Korra motioned for her to come inside, and she crawled in behind her. The space was barely two shoulder-widths wide, but they were warmer than they’d ever be in the open.

 

When Asami started shivering anyway, Korra didn’t think twice.

 

“Asami,” Korra said, holding her arms out. “You’ve got to come in closer.”

 

She came in more willingly than Korra expected, positioning herself half on top of Korra and half on the compact snow. She buried her face in Korra’s neck, and Korra felt the tip of her nose like the poke of an icicle.

 

Korra wasn’t awake long before she drifted off, Asami’s slow exhales warming her neck.

 

**

 

The first four days and four nights were spent falling into a routine and trying not to get lost.

 

Korra was glad that she at least recognized the southern tip of the pole, or else she might not have known where they were going at all.

 

Three times a day, Korra heat up ice and boiled fish. She thought she might have been able to catch a squid or a seal with waterbending, but they couldn’t afford to stay in one place that long unless they were sleeping.

 

Asami would watch Korra intently as she prepared, as if fascinated by the process. She always ate her fish solemnly, though, as if guilty of how little she could do.

 

**

 

The fifth night was unnaturally cold. Asami shuffled on top of Korra every so often, as if trying to absorb as much body heat as she possibly could.

 

The temperature kept Korra too alert to relax. An hour into the night, she stopped waiting for sleep she knew wouldn’t come.

 

“Tell me about yourself,” Asami whispered, noticing Korra awake.

 

Korra almost laughed, their position awkward for conversation. But Asami’s expression was earnest and serious, so Korra began in spite of herself.

 

“I was born in the Water Tribe. Um, I had a pretty normal childhood.”

 

Save for one thing, maybe.

 

“I’m an only child, so I got lonely sometimes, but I had a few friends who lived close to me. My dad and I would go on hunting trips in the winter, though a lot of people didn’t like that. They wanted me to stay at the tribe and learn healing. Which wouldn’t have been that bad, I guess, but I didn’t see why I couldn’t do both.”

 

Korra decided to leave out that the chief had threatened to take her father off the council after he found out about their trips. They had stopped going after that.

 

“That’s part of the reason I went out to prove myself to the tribe, even though I’m the first girl in who knows how long. I wanted to prove I could do it, because then maybe people would let other girls could do it, too. There’s no law against it, technically, so they let me go,” Korra finished.

 

Asami seemed to digest this. “That seems fair,” she said. “You’re just as strong as any of them, I’m sure.”

 

Korra smiled awkwardly. She didn’t know the half of it.

 

“So tell me about you,” Korra said, hoping to change the subject.

 

“I was born in the Earth Kingdom to a pretty well-off family. My parents were bladesmiths, too. My mother died when I was young, and when I was 14, my father was taken away. I was too old for any of the orphanages at that point. I knew the basic principles of bladesmithing, but I was never trained in anything advanced. I started repairing and sharpening Water Tribe weapons and selling them in the Northern Earth Kingdom. I didn’t really have a choice. And… here I am.”

 

Korra thought about losing her parents at such a young age and felt a pang of sympathy for Asami. Empathy then, maybe, but she cringed to think about it.

 

She would find them. She knew she would.

 

Asami seemed to read her mind and tilted her head so she could look up at Korra, eye contact unflinching. “We’ll find your parents, Korra. I promise.”

 

Korra shook her head, feeling a wave of guilt wash over her. “I wasn’t – . I mean.” Korra sighed.

 

“It’s not selfish. I understand,” Asami said, and her words sounded genuine.

 

Korra covered her face, exasperated. “You did it again.”

 

Asami looked up at her again, confusion written on her face. Korra was acutely aware of how close their faces were, and for some reason it made the hair on her neck stand on edge.

 

“You knew exactly what I was thinking. Twice,” Korra clarified.

 

Korra felt rather than saw Asami shrug. “I don’t thi-”

 

Whatever she was going to say was halted by her own violent shiver. Asami repositioned herself so that she was almost entirely on top of Korra.

 

“I can’t breathe,” Korra mumbled, and Asami slid off of her. She landed on her side, curled up pitifully.

 

“Stay like that,” Korra instructed, covering the back of Asami’s body with the front of hers.

 

“I really am sorry,” Korra said after a moment. “About what happened to your family.”

 

Asami sighed. “I’m just glad I’m not alone any more.”

 

They lapsed into silence, and the only sounds were the fabric of Asami’s clothes swishing against the snow when she shivered.

 

Despite hardly knowing her, Korra worried for her in the cold. There was one thing she knew she could do, but the thought set her nerves on edge. One part of her was sure Asami would leave if she found out, but another part of her was terrified she wouldn’t wake up next to a breathing body tomorrow.

 

“I need to do something,” Korra said, hating the shake of her own voice. “Stay calm, okay?”

 

Starting with her hands, Korra willed heat to spread through her skin, and already she heard Asami sigh of relief at the warmth. Agonizing silence lasted for a few moments, and then Asami seemed to shake out of her warm stupor.

 

“Korra?” she began. “How are you doing this?”

 

Korra whispered, even though she was absolutely sure nobody in their right mind was anywhere near them. “Firebending.”

 

“But you’re a waterbend- oh.”

 

Asami didn’t say anything for what felt like forever, but she didn’t shift away from Korra’s loose embrace.

 

“You’re not going to try to leave or something?” Korra asked, feeling disoriented by her reaction.

 

“Why would I leave a warm body in the middle of the North Pole?”

 

All Korra could think to do was laugh in response.

 

“I wish you would have told me sooner. You could have used firebending that first night instead of leaving me in the cold for four.”

 

Korra stared at the ceiling of the snow drift and shook her head. “I was terrified to tell you and you’re acting like it’s nothing.”

 

Korra felt Asami shrug again. “You’re Korra, not the Avatar before you.”

 

Korra wasn’t sure if she could put into words how grateful she was.

 

**

 

They spoke more after that night, sharing snippets of their old lives as they trudged through fresh snow. Asami had nothing but good things to say about her late mother; her eyes were a beautiful shade of green (less gold in them than mine, Asami explained), she was an incredible artist, she could sing, she could do complex arithmetic inside of her head.

 

But she wouldn’t even speak of her father.

 

Korra didn't press, but she wondered. At first, she filled in the spaces with stories of her own father, of his famous bedtime stories, of how he’d always let Korra have third helpings as a kid, of the time he taught her to catch a squid.

 

But Korra stopped after she saw the look on Asami’s face, like she was trying to swallow a fish without chewing.

 

**

 

It was after a week of searching that Asami voiced the words Korra had been dreading to hear or think about.

 

“Korra, I think your family’s left the North Pole.”

 

Korra knew she was probably right, and that they were just going to get further and further behind the longer they stayed where they were. But it didn’t make the idea any easier to swallow.

 

“We need to cross the sea, then,” Korra decided, not bothering to mask the disappointment clear on her face.

 

**

 

The boat was not at all like the Water Tribe vessels Korra was used to. It was much too long, and too skinny. It wobbled with every wave, and it made Korra’s stomach churn.

 

“How much longer?” Korra asked, not sure how much more she could take.

 

“Oh, an hour or so,” Asami said. She already looked livelier than she did in the North Pole; her eyes were brighter and most of the colour had returned to her face.

 

“Aren’t you burning up?” Korra asked, eyeing the parka Asami was still wearing. Korra had shed her parka an hour before, and already she was sweating through the lighter jacket she had been wearing underneath.

 

“I’m savouring being too warm, now.”

 

Korra rolled her eyes.

 

Eventually Asami did shed a layer, though, and Korra realized she had never seen her without a fur-lined hood on. Her hair was dark and wavy and though a bit straggly, it still framed her face nicely after weeks without maintenance. She caught Korra’s eye and smiled, and she looked more vibrant than Korra had ever seen her.

 

Korra tried to smile back in spite of the small ocean she was sweating.

 

**

 

The first settlement they passed was made almost entirely of rock. Vendors lined the streets, selling produce and clothes and preserves.

 

Asami’s familiarity with the area came in useful. They were ill-prepared for the heat, so she led Korra to a vendor who was willing to trade clothes in exchange for Korra’s machete.

 

Asami tried to convinced the vendor that the weapon was made of the best materials available, and eventually the woman relented, handing them a fistful of currency along with the clothes. They used half of it to buy a large water jug, realizing that they wouldn’t be able to melt snow to drink any more.

 

In a sleeveless shirt and loose trousers, Korra felt slightly more comfortable. Eventually Asami did find a pair of pants that extended past her ankles; a brown pair with a pocket on the waist. They received some questioning glances in their men’s attire, and Korra took to scowling at disapproving onlookers. Robes and skirts weren’t practical for walking long distances.

 

Once they agreed that they were hungry, Asami showed Korra into a small hut made of rock. Inside were three tables - also made of rock - and a stocky man in an apron. The menu only had two dishes on it; Roasted Duck and Roasted Pork, but Asami promised they were both delicious. Korra had never tried either meat, deciding on the duck at random.

 

The hot, sharp spices were not at all what Korra was used to, and though she cleaned her plate, she could never quite decide if she liked it or not.

 

“I’m sorry you had to sell your machete,” Asami said between bites of pork.

 

Korra shrugged. She hadn’t expected Asami to feel bad about that, and she was oddly touched. “It’s alright. It’ll be worth it in the long run.”

 

Asami gave her a determined nod, and Korra found herself glad they had a common goal.

 

They left right after they payed and walked south until night encroached. A stone path led them through settlement after settlement; town after town, all in close succession. Some were small clusters of shacks, others large and more elaborate.

 

Korra kept an eye out for her parents all the while, but found nothing that caught her attention.

 

The soft patch of grass they found to sleep on felt eons better than sleeping on frozen snow. The nights weren’t cold anymore, but out of habit, Asami tucked her head under Korra’s arm.

 

Korra listened to a gentle chirping as she waited for sleep to take her.

 

“Crickets,” Asami had explained before she’d drifted off, her voice thick from nearing sleep.

 

**

 

“Korra,” Asami began. “I know what it’s like to lose parents. I’m not saying we won’t find them, but I’m here if you want to talk.”

 

Korra furrowed her brows. She prided herself on being a doer, on getting things over with firsthand so she wouldn’t have to dwell on them afterwards. Being unable to locate her parents was pushing her off balance.

 

“Is that why you came?” Korra asked.

 

Asami broke eye contact. “I thought if nothing else I could be your support. I know you’ll find your parents but…” she faltered. “It’s still not something you want to go through alone.”

 

“You really have nothing to go back to?” Korra asked. “We’re not that far from your town. You could still go back.”

 

“Korra, trust me. I don’t want to.”

 

Korra nodded. She had to make sure.

 

“I guess I just hate not having a clear destination,” Korra said, kicking a rock along the path.

 

“Korra,” Asami started. “Do you think your family might be heading to the South Pole?”

 

She had been preoccupied enough by basic needs that she had never given it a thought. Korra almost didn’t want to admit that it made sense, but as much as it pained her, she figured reality would be better to accept sooner than later.

 

“We know they’re not in the North Pole, and it seems like the most logical destination past that,” Asami finished.

 

“Alright, then. We’re going to the South Pole. You up for that?” Korra asked.

 

“It’s going to take us months. Maybe longer.”

 

Despite herself Korra was pleased she had said ‘us’ and not ‘you.’ There was something about Asami’s presence that was comforting, like a steady voice of reason amongst the chaos.

 

Korra gave her an imploring look and Asami nodded. “I’m up for that,” Asami said. “As long as you are.”


End file.
